Fly On The Wall

My favorite thinking place is often the shower, and so it was this morning. It has been pointed out rather strongly to me that I have a lot to keep track of these days, and that's probably true. So a daily shower keeps me clean - and sane.

As I stood there under the flowing water i felt quite alright, 'cause I had just sorted out one of my "problems". Or potential problem anyway. The insight that led me to that conclusion would most likely help me out with more than a few situations later on as well, and that too made me happy.

Suddenly I had a visitor behind the curtain. A midge came flying and landed on the wall. Euphoric as I was I actually smiled at him! Sounds silly, I know, but from my standpoint he was a living thing, only trying to make contact of some sorts. (No, I don't smoke weed...)

But can you guess what the stupid Chironomidae did? Don't know if he thought I was irresistible or something, but he flew right towards me! Oblivious to the water spray that eventually would flush him down the drain. Poor thing. Hopefully bigger creatures have the strength to stay head above water if they're close to me...

Wind In My Hair

Remember that old wine I told you about a month ago? Well, I didn't open it that day after all. Right now I can't remember why, but it doesn't matter anyway. Today though I felt like having a glass, and that bottle was the only thing I had. So here I am, watching Sweden vs. Spain (1-1, 73 minutes into the game), drinking Spanish wine, and trying to find my Swedish roots. Which in my family is inevitably linked to watching soccer.

What about the wine than? It's pretty clear now that the conditions haven't been the best, I think I can detect a slightly sour taste. Just a hint, and it's still drinkable, but I'm glad I didn't have to impose this on someone I care about. If there's a lesson her I don't know, but maybe there's a time and place for everything, and some things can't wait?

Anywhos... This is the last week before the holidays starts, and I don't think I've ever wanted and longed for it as much as I do now. Sure I need it too, I think most people I know would agree. And this one will be a long one too, with enough time catch some wind, both at sea and on land. Nothin's like a convertible to mess up your hair...

But before letting myself into this wirlwind of exciting adventures, I have that oral exam to pass on Monday. Let's not make a big fuzz about it though; I was so extremely happy to have finished the written part I'm rather indifferent about the whole thing now. Whether I get this or that grade doesn't matter that much right now. I have far more important things on my mind these days.

Finally it seems I'm getting closer to where I wanna be (I might have said this before...), but it hasn't come free. Hard work is what it takes, and determination. And never let anyone boss you around. Never. Simple, right? It's like navigating in a way. Study your chart, choose your destination, pin out the coordinates and set sail. Just stay clear of grounds and reefs, and take extra care while crossing open waters.

Seems like I always come back to the same point - water. And what a good point it is! The source of life, the source of everything one might say. In it, under it, on it, with it, living it.

PS. As always, there's no way for you to know how long it takes for me to write a post unless I tell you, and usually it won't matter. This one though took forever, and it could make a difference. 'Cause while I was spending some quality time with my daughters the wine improved, and in the end it was almost pleasurable, like everything bad was forgotten.

Just pulling your leg a little. Perhaps there are no analogies, lessons or anything? Life is just what it is, and you better participate while it passes by? I for one am planning to do just that. No more waiting for life to start. Sounds like an epiphany, doesn't it? DS.

Update, with no significance to the point here: Sweden lost the game.

Danish Delight

How can one deny such beauty?

Thin Ice

I've written before about my grandfather, but that was the one on my father's side, and now I want to tell you something about the other one. His name was John, and he was extremely resourceful but also a very gentle man. And did always have a joke on hand. Where all his funny stories came from was a mystery, and even in his 90's he made us laugh of something we'd never heard before.

This man was a hard working man, and he'd be outdoors whenever he could, riding his bike in summer and skiing in winter. When not working of course. Never complained about anything, and we almost lost him once when he'd fallen and hit his head without telling grandma, nor anyone else for that matter. Weeks later he started to be very disoriented and "senile". But luckily there were doctors who wouldn't settle for an age related diagnose, and they found out that he had a large clot of blood pressuring inside his skull. It was removed (the clot - not his skull!), he wore a funny wig for a couple of weeks, and was soon restored to his old giggly self and active life. This was sometime in the 80's, and he lived on for another twenty or so years, in the end without his dear Sonja, my lovely grandmother. (But her story will be for another day.)

Nothing could stop him, and at 85 he still rode his bike to the next town if the meatloaf was cheaper there. Not because he was cheap, he just liked the challenge. He also carried a great love for fishing, all year round, and that was actually the inspiration for this post.

No one could walk on ice like he could, no one else would dare to step out on as thin ice as he did. That got me thinking. You have to be careful. Obviously. But you would also have to be planning ahead, knowing your surroundings and the elements; where the currents are, the depths and shallows. Avoiding the weaker areas where the reeds grow. In a sense you have to communicate with the ice, listen to sounds it makes when it's under too much pressure. With any squealing or cracking noise you'd better stop, relax and then step back a little. At least the ice was safe where you came from. And then you'd find a safer route, if possible. If not - you'd just go back home, and then try again another day. There's always later.

And maybe his granddaughter will walk on water too one day.

Flowing Water

This time of the year it's common to sum up the previous year, but is there any possible way to do that? And should I? I guess whatever happens in life, either good or bad, it's important to learn something from it, in order to progress. To be able to repeat any success, and avoid making the same mistakes over and over again. But the first question I need to answer is whether I should write at all...

Well, of course I'll write, but it was more what and where. This is not the first time I questioned the existence of this blog, and probably not the last, but this time I was actually quite sure I wasn't going to post anything more. The freedom I used to feel, the relief in venting out my thoughts and feelings, was gone, and I felt I was giving away freebies. Like I'd put myself under a microscope for anyone to examine my heart and soul. And why should I do that for nothing? On the other hand, only writing about every day trivia isn't doing it for me in the long run, it's the more complex and profound personal issues I need to explore.

Also, it seems like some people love my words more than they love me, so what the hell; why not give the people what the people want then? If I make it my decision to "give", maybe I'll get at least some sense of dignity and control back?

In one of the first posts of last year I sounded quite optimistic, and the one sentence read like this:

"This year's plan is to run through any brick walls that might come in my way..."

I don't know whether the walls were too solid, sturdy and impenetrable or if I just didn't see them,but the result was still the same. I smashed so hard I can still feel the pain. That's why I'm not going to predict anything for this year, and there'll be no New Year's resolutions for me. As long as I'll keep my head above water I'll be fairly satisfied. Everything else is a bonus. And with this rather bleak and pessimistic view I should be in for a fantastic year, don't you think?

OK, back to 2007 then, if only for those last weeks.

I spent the latter part of December with my family in Sweden, and here are a few words (and images) from then.



So, this is where I'm from - Mölndal, Sweden. Funny though how some things can just lie there for ever without you taking any notice. I don't know how many times I've passed here, and not looking really. To my defense I don't think the stream was as accessible back then, all locked in by factories and fences. Now as the buildings are rebuilt and let out for office use, the area is more open to the public. All in line with the idea of restoring and maintaining historical sites like this in general.



The second picture is from Fiskebäck, where my father keeps his boat. Now we just paid a quick visit to see that everything was in place, and all covers tightly secured. They were, but going there was also a nice excuse for grabbing a pizza at the local "restaurant". (The quality of the photos are not the best, taken with my mobile device as they are.)

Otherwise Christmas and New Year passed by in relative peace and harmony. The last day of the year I spent with two bachelors, lamb chops, Amarone wine, Roquefort cheese with Sauternes, and Champagne when the clock struck twelve. Absolutely a nice evening, and very safe considering the two bachelors are my brothers. No risk of breaking anything there.

So what would this "New Year Revue" be about then? Could say it was the year when everything happened, and then again, nothing at all...

Decomp

Hola, and now a deep breath! I've probably just been diving a little too deep lately, and as you know there's then need for scheduled decompression stops while ascending to the surface. But I'd also like to dwell a little on that metaphor; diving that is. I think that when we speak about diving and going deep as an analogy for human mental activity, we often tend to associate that with something negative, like being depressed or feeling down. And something you're "dragged" into; something that's beyond your control.

Not necessarily.

First, if it's your decision, if you plan to dive, you'll need to be prepared. Safety is of the utmost importance when it comes to diving, for obvious reasons - you're coming up again! Depending on the motives for diving (recreational, commercial, military, rescue, scientific, technical, et.c) you're getting trained and equipped accordingly, but it's all about control. No matter if you're wreck diving, hunting for long lost treasures from Spanish galleons or if you're working as a North Sea oil diver, you'll have to have the acquired skill and expertise to accomplish your task. Even the "philosophical diver" I met a few years back, needed to keep track of time and his air supply. His favorite dive was to only descended about 15 meters, find a nice flat rock, lie on his back and watch the sun spread its rays through the water. He also grew his own marijuana which he used to smoke or bake into chocolate cakes, but I'm pretty sure he never combined the two; drugs and diving.

So when I say I've been diving, I think it has been a controlled dive, taking necessary precautions to reach the surface without getting the bends. And what a wonderful time that is to contemplate and reflect on life, all surrounded by vast waters and silence.

Ways Of Water

Water is the source of life. But the quality of water can vary, and there are several measurements that say something about a water body's health. Probably the most known is how pH measure how acidic or basic water is, but there are others too. The temperature can be very important, changes can affect the ability of water to hold oxygen as well as the ability of organisms to resist certain pollutants.

Specific conductance is a measure of the ability of water to conduct an electrical current, and will give a good idea of the amount of dissolved material in the water. Next, turbidity is the amount of particulate matter that is suspended in water, which makes the water cloudy. It is measured by how light shines through the water.

Although water molecules contain an oxygen atom, this oxygen is not what is needed for those who live in water. A small amount of oxygen is actually dissolved in water, and is breathed by fish and other living organisms.

Rapidly moving water, such as in a mountain stream or large river, tends to contain a lot of dissolved oxygen, while stagnant water contains little. Life can have a hard time in stagnant water, that has a lot of rotting material in it. At last, one can determine the "hardness" of a water by measuring the amount of dissolved calcium and magnesium in it.

So, healthy water is neither to acid nor basic, it's free from pollution and waste, not too soft, not too hard, and most importantly - it runs freely. In stagnant water hardly anything thrive, and some of it that does are dangers like mosquitoes, parasites and harmful bacteria. There's a beautiful exception though, and that's the Lotus flower, which also has it's own symbolic value. When I came this far in my water "research" I was a little disappointed, it didn't fit into my metaphor and how water needs to be flowing. But after thinking hard I came up with the solution:

The stagnant waters that lotuses prefer aren't made over the night, these are natural evolutions that has taken a long time to develop. They're not man-made trapped waters in some tank, nor are they ground or surface water stagnation due to poor drainage or excessive watering.

A habitat like that must somehow found just the right balance to keep on living, and provide a home for a wonder like the sacred waterlily. And one condition is that there has to be enough ambient sun.

This post could go on for ever and ever, as the river does.

Waves and ice.

Diving and drowning.

Life.

Thanks to USGS for some of the facts...

You Wanna Kiss?

Yesterday I felt a little blue, as I sometimes do for no particular reason. It's more like it's too much going on, and I get a little confused and tired. Teenagers, studies, grownup and moved away children with heartache, sinusitis, "writer's block" (not that I'm a writer, but I do need to write those assignments...), and the anxiety about the future (and everything regarding it) that strikes me from time to time. I called a friend, and after talking to her I felt much better. I guess she could be rich by now if she only charged me for her counseling.

So when I woke up this morning everything seemed a lot brighter, but I knew there was still potential for improvement. All I needed was a kiss. Or two.

And boy am I lucky, as I won't settle for kissing just any stranger passing by. (Have to have known them for at least a couple of hours...) So thanks to the wonders of technology, and a few MMS and SMS later I got myself a date in a park, somewhere in between his and my place.

20 minutes of sunshine, ice cream, and kissing. Wow, what an afternoon! And now I'm quite content again. Thank you, darling.

In Space No One Can Hear You Scream

In 1979 I was 13, and not the least bit interested in horror movies. But I was interested in a boy, and when he suggested we'd go see Alien I "happily" followed along. I didn't see much of the movie though; after that first jump in the chair when the "egg" cracked and that crablike creature threw itself at Kane's face, I pretty much buried my head in my boyfriends sweater. Tried a few glimpses now and then, but when that slimy eel-creature chewed his way through Kane's stomach from within, I don't think I saw one bit more. Have a very vague memory of the actual full grown alien, black and shiny, with its hideous extending mouth, but that's it. From back then though. As you might understand I have watched the movie more closely later. I still can't say I like horror movies, but I can appreciate the art behind a film like Alien.

Ridley Scott is a very thorough director and producer, and maybe that's why movies like Blade runner, Thelma & Louise and Gladiator, besides Alien, have so many fans. And in this thoroughness he obviously employs highly qualified professionals at all levels, such as the Swiss artist H. R. Giger for creating the monster.

But how can this almost 30 year old Hollywood movie have anything to do with my temporary trainee position at the Institute of Marine Research where I am now? A lot actually. Browsing through last month's news articles I came across this one. The very source of inspiration for that terrifying Xenomorph. Maybe not so scary though, only 30 mm long...

A Swedish Sub

My father is visiting me this week, which is always a pleasure. It's challenging too, as it often is when you live so close up to someone for a week. But whatever disagreements we might have it's worth it; my father has always been, and still is, very important to me. (So is my mother, but she's coming next month, so I'll come back to her then...)

The other day we were talking about this and that, and he asked me:

-You know that your grandfather served in the Navy, don't you?

I wasn't sure really, and I started to think about my grandfather, who died when I was 12. I remember my grandparents on my father's side, as an older distinguished couple who had all the time in the world, and more than willingly let me stay for sleepovers. I could sit at the opposite side of his desk and listen to his stories for hours. The funny thing is that I can't remember a single one of them, all I remember is the atmosphere and how i felt. A little in aw, and honored. But he sang, I remember that, or at least I think it's a memory. The truth is however that he did sing a lot earlier, and my father still talks about the book, with all these old songs written down, which was stolen from my grandfather's backpack while they were marching in the military. So at some point I must have known that he'd spent some time in uniform, but I guess I only thought of it as his military service. To me he was a retired bus driver.

But that's how kids think. They get the facts, and jut put them somewhere in storage without dealing so much with them. Kids are much more living now than yesterday, and so did I. My grandfather was 68 when I was born, so all I knew was this gentle and kind senior person. But apparently he served six years, and started out as a submarine seaman right after WW1.




He couldn't continue that due to some damage to his eyes. While using the observation scope to scan the sea surface and sky, the seamen's eyes were unprotected against the harsh reflections from the sun, and a lot of them got injured.



My grandfather therefore started to sail with minesweepers such as S/S Srängaren and S/S Blenda, and he also served as chief steward on the cruiser HMS Fylgia around South America.



That my father's older sister was born in 1926 I guess could have something to do with my grandfather giving up his Navy career, and when he went ashore for good he started out as a chef and butcher. Probably not both things at the same time, but so far my father's recollections are a little mixed up about this. Understandable, considering he was just a baby. We might get it sorted out sooner or later, but it's not that important.

All the small things we don't know, about people who are close to us. I think I'll have to sit down soon with my father and start record everything. He's a story teller, as his father was, and I feel a little obligated (and inspired) to keep up that tradition.

Sea, Stars & Salvation

"A long time ago there was this little sailor girl. She was desirous, she had her own ship and she ruled the seas. No storm was too fierce, no wave too high. As she got older she began sailing in company, and for decades they traveled great distances and guested many ports. The sea was sometimes rough, but nothing she couldn't handle. She was a redheaded viking, she was a Phoenician queen, she was a pirate of the seven seas .

One day the ship went under.

She was caught by a current; did almost drown. Hardly knowing what was up or down she managed to swim to the surface, and she grasped desperately for air. Now the night had fallen.

In the dim moonlight she could see floating debris all around her, but she was alone. Her company was nowhere to be seen. She gathered the remains of the ship, and made herself a simple raft. The night seemed to have no ending, and she drifted at sea for an eternity. All she could do was to watch the dark sky, and map the stars. Her mind was a mirror of the universe; endless, unexplored and incomprehensible. Lost.

Yes, she was lost. She watched the stars and recognized Ursa Minor, only to realize that she didn't know what to do with it. Her navigating skills were nothing more than a vague memory, impossible to retrieve. What had happened? Hadn't she been sailing for all her life? Exhausted she fell asleep, and she lay shivering in the cold night. As the sun rose next morning, and the first ray of light hit her eyes, she woke up again.

She stood up on the raft and turned around, slowly. In all directions there was nothing but water, water, water. That first day the weather was fine and the sea stayed calm. She had managed to salvage supplies from the boat, so for the moment she had both water to drink and food to eat.

This is a story, so how she could survive on the raft for so long is a mystery we don't have to explain, but true is that she was there. Some days were so glorious she almost forgot she was lost, and others so tempestuous she wished for the sharks to rip her flesh and end her sufferings. Days, weeks and months went by. Even years. And all the time she wondered how she had ended up drifting at sea. Sometimes she was close enough to see the shore, and birds came visiting her on the raft. And occasionally other boats passed by her, and she waved to the people on board. She shouted to them as well. Why didn't they pick her up, you may ask? This is a story, remember? Things don't work the same way here.

But anyway, she sat there on her raft and asked herself all these questions. Was it possible it was all a dream? Maybe the others didn't see what she knew? Maybe her raft was a mirage, looking like a full-rigged ship from a distance? And how could they know she had let someone else steer her ship for so long she'd forgotten how to sail? And the ocean was bottomless and dark."

Not to be taken too seriously, it's a story, alright?

180 Degrees Of Being

I'm exhausted after this weeks turmoil. The different emotional states I've been in since Tuesday, I'm sure could fit into any psychology curriculum. And now? I've just had a most delightful evening with a friend of mine, and I feel a whole lot better.

I had quickly whipped up something to eat; a veggie pie with broccoli, sundried tomatoes and onions. And cheese of course. All washed down with a litre of Italian plonk, which was surprisingly good. After that we checked out "boats for sale" on the internet. The Sambuca I brought from Sardinia went really well with that. I must admit I almost got a little bit tipsy, and that's probably also the reason why I'm sitting here writing, instead of jumping to bed. I will, in just a second.

Perspectives

Funny how the view can change so dramatically. Most people one time or another dream about winning big at the Lottery. Some do it to the extent that it's almost embarrassing, they're more talking of when and not if they're going to win. I must admit I too have been dreaming about zillions of dollars, but I'm not a hard gambler so to speak.

My little fantasy around what to do with an indecent amount of money wasn't so much about what to buy, as it was about how long could I keep the secret for. (Keep it from my husband, that was) I laid all these plans, about building up the tension only to make the surprise even bigger. I would have started with buying some expensive underware. Not delicate ones for me, but more like spending way too much on ordinary black socks with a silly brand name on for him. He would have hated it, telling me not to squander so much. To make the story shorter I'll just tell you that the finale would have been to bring him down to the marina and present him with a key to his dreamboat.

Reflecting now on this some 15 year old memory it strikes me that I didn't consider that much what I would have wanted for myself, I only wanted to make him happy. Teasing him a little bit of course, but still, I dreamt about seeing his face when he realized that we were stinking rich.

So what do I dream about now? Have I started to care bout my own needs? Oh, absolutely. If I won the Lottery I could continue my travel into the world of knowledge without having to worry about the student loan anymore. I don't need that much else, really, and the rest could the children get.

Or maybe just a little boat...



Red Boat with Blue Sails by Odilon Redon

Liar, Liar, Pants On Fire

About a week ago I wrote a post about the water shortage here in Bergen. The same day I talked to my mother on the phone, and we discussed how water restrictions might affect us, and how far we would be willing to stretch to fulfill our obligations as obedient citizens. Last she said: "But I won't turn off the shower while using the soap, I don't like to freeze and I enjoy the hot water pouring down my back far too much. I'd rather have a quicker one, if that's what it takes." I couldn't agree more, I could almost feel how intolerable it was to stand there naked without the warming water.

The following morning I had my regular shower and started as usual with a little amount of shampoo, rinsed the hair and then a second shampoo application. Rinsed again, and after that the conditioner. Grabbed the shower cream, AND TURNED OFF THE WATER! It hit me as a cold shower, and I realized I had lied. 'Cause the instant I turned off the shower I knew that this is how I do it; EVERY SINGLE TIME! I just couldn't let it pass, I needed to know what had happened, and if it was significant. Obviuosly I thought so, otherwise I don't think I would be bothered in giving you detailed information about my personal hygiene.

First of all, was it a lie? Is not telling the truth a lie, even if you're not conscious about it? I could have sworn to a jury, that I never turn off the water while showering, and that's probably based on what (I think) I know about myself. It made sense, I hate to freeze. I had sound arguments for my point of view, so to speak.

On the other hand, I have taken so many showers that I don't think or plan how to do it anymore. It's become an integrated habit, each step evolved out of some practical need.

Let's now apply this to something more serious. There are so many people who absolutely believe themselves when denying all sorts of bad behaviour; like lying, cheating, abusing (both verbally and physically) and acting stupidly in general. The list could go on forever, but that's not the point here either. What is remarkable though, is that this type of denial is more than anything else, a retelling of the norms and values you've been exposed to all your life. But if you haven't integrated them, they won't actually be true. You have sound arguments for your case, because this is how you're taught to behave, even if you might be lying through your teeth on a regular basis. It makes sense to be nice, not that many admit to get any pleasure out of hurting people, and you honestly believe you're a good person. All this while ranting and raving, smacking your spouse, and treating the children as property.

So, have you had a cold shower lately?

We Need Water

Nature has its own way of beeing ironic. I live in a city which is widely known as one of the wettest places on earth. All we have here is rain, rain and even more rain. But if there's one time of the year when we could appreciate the downpour it must be the winter, because then it would come down as snow. Not this year, though. This winter has turned out to be very sunny with almost no snow at all, with the result that they officially tell us to be very careful with our water usage and start saving water. Well, at least it means I can be excused for not washing the car.

My Bonnie

The winds have blown over the ocean
The winds have blown over the sea
The winds have blown over the ocean
And brought back my bonnie to me

Bring back, bring back
Bring back my Bonnie to me, to me
Bring back, bring back
Bring back my Bonnie to me

Freud's Boat

Well, we didn't get the boat. Right now I'm not too sure what to think about the whole thing, but if I have understood just a fraction of what I'm supposed to, at my course in Psychoanalysis, I believe the dream I had last night tried to tell me something:
I really can't remember that many details, but suddenly The Boat appeared, and to my astonishment I found out that she actually was driven by nuclear power and radioactive! Dangerous to say the least, and far more complicated to take care of than anyone could have imagined. Neither of us are Atomic Scientists. In this dream lies the possibility of some useful interpretations, but it's too late now. I'd rather go to bed and see if I'll get a "follow-up".

I'll think we'll probably go for more sail and less motor. (Toril, how much do you charge for lessons?) ;) lol

And something completely different: I've made a new "design",
Come visit my second store on CafePress!

Baby on it's way?

I've been flying around a lot lately, in many aspects. (Not in all, mind you!) The most recent trip was just a 24-hour one to have a closer look at the boat we want to buy. I arrived in Trondheim late at night and grabbed a few hours sleep before I picked up my rental car and set off for Frøya. Norway is truly a beautyful country and the 2 1/2 hour drive made wonders for my scattered mind.

So after my personal inspection I made a quick phonecall and we decided to go for it. Perhaps I was a bit naiv, but I thought the deal would be closed that day. But, oh no. I didn't hear anything for the rest of that day, and it was not until this afternoon I've recieved a mail where the seller said they still had to deliberate a bit further. He said he would give me an answer monday evening, at the latest.

It was now I started to think about the process of getting an adopted child. I've heard stories where the parents-to-be actually got pictures of "their" new baby and even travelled across the world to pick him or her up only to learn that the biological mum had changed her mind and kept the child. I'm not at all trying to pretend that buying a "dead" thing like a boat could be compared with having your own children, but as I don't think I'm going to enlarge my family in the nearby future this is in a way my new "baby", and the wait and uncertainty is killing me, so to speak. And just as being a first time mum I'm not at all sure how to take care of this bundle, even though I've been around boats before.

I'm so glad I'm not doing this alone. On the other hand, I wouldn't either.

Peeing My Pants

My essay was supposed to be handed in by Friday, and as I'm going away Thursday morning I thought I'd rather finish my writing tomorrow, Wednesday. But today I was relieved to learn that the due-date has been postponed until next Tuesday, and immediate I leaned back in my chair and imagined I had all the time in the world. But that, my friend, is really like wet yourself to keep warm.

Regardless, I'm happy for the extra time 'cause I'm kind of stuck now. Partly I'm not really sure how philosophical I can keep this text and still meet the expectations regarding reference to the curriculum and required reading. But hey, What the Hack, I think I'll stick to my personal style and see what happens. That's usually a good idea, why not this time?

The other reason for my struggel with the writing is that other wet dream I've had lately (without peeing my pants). The one about the boat. Yeh, I know, you've heard it before. I even said we already bought the freakin' ship, but the thing is we really weren't sure. Should we go for the one that seemed to be a safe (as safe as a boat can be) investment, but perhaps lacking a bit charm, or should we decide upon the one we really fell for? The one which probably had a lot of hidden problems? Mind or heart? But there was also a third alternative... a lovely lady who had it all - tons of charm, regulary inspected (without negative comments!) but of course she seemed to be out of our reach, we're not that rich. In fact, we're not rich at all. I for my part am only repeating my usual stunt. Spend my savings on something I believe in.

I am a great believer. And I belive in many things, fate and destiny being two of my favourites. Or do they count as one? Anyway, according to that we might actually end up with the dreamboat afterall! Guess her name? Frigg!


For you who are too lazy to link, I'll just tell you that Frigg was the wife of Odin, and she was the only one who knew humans fate almost as well as her husband did, back in the good old Viking days. I wonder how they kept warm?...